Dodging Lessons
by lepharus
Summary: After a day of firebending lessons, Zuko asks Aang to teach him something.  Little bit of boy lovin' in this one, if you couldn't tell.  COMPLETE


Underneath all the maps, food, and sleeping bags, Aang finds what he is looking for. The thin piece of cloth is crammed in the corner of one of the saddlebags, and when Aang pulls it out it is wrinkled and pathetic looking. He hands it to Zuko with a triumphant look on his face.

Zuko looks down at the red cloth spilling over his fingers, at the stamped on logo, just discernible in the darkness, and is sure that he's seen it before.

"Isn't this part of a school uniform? How did you get this?" Zuko asks. Aang looks sheepish, and Zuko is sure that he has gotten the uniform through less than Avatar worthy means.

"That's...not the point here," Aang says. "Just put it on. Over your eyes."

Zuko glances up in surprise. It is already bad enough to be practicing in the dark, when his bending is weakest; he's not at all comfortable with losing his sight on top of that.

Aang crosses his arms and watches him impatiently, but Zuko can swear that there's something more in his gaze than just impatience- amusement, probably. Aang is enjoying having the tables turned; to finally be the one to teach and give direction instead of the other way around.

"Toph made me do this when she taught me Earthbending, and it helped a lot," Aang says.

"But, I'm not learning Earthbending," Zuko protests.

"That doesn't matter. When you practice with the blindfold on, it heightens the rest of your senses. Don't you want to have heightened sense in a fight, Zuko?"

Zuko notices that Aang's voice has gone about three decibels lower in the course of his speech, and he's started wagging a finger at him. Maybe the teaching thing has gone to his head.

The pupil just sighs and gives in. He ties the cloth belt around his eyes, cutting out the world completely. Knowing what is coming- that Aang is going to attack him and he is going to have to block it without even seeing it- makes him feel very vulnerable.

"Stop thinking about what you can't see," Aang says. "Think about what you can hear. Think about what you can feel." Zuko can tell by the sound and direction of Aang's voice that he's circling around him. Already the blindfold trick is working.

Aang puts on his pseudo-teaching voice again.

"It is only when we are blind that we have the chance to truly see."

Zuko peers at where he guesses Aang must be standing.

"What does that even mean? Aren't you going to throw a rock at me, or something?" Zuko has been standing expectantly, legs apart and palms up, waiting for an attack he's starting to think is never going to come. Aang is a peaceful creature; he doesn't throw punches, even if the fight isn't real.

"I could throw a rock at you, but first you should really be more respectful to your teacher. Call me Sifu Aang."

"I'm not calling you that," Zuko says. He sounds like he is coming close to ripping off the blindfold and calling it a night. Aang decides to hurry up with his lesson.

"I thought I should give you time to get used to not seeing. Because, you know, there's no bending for this exercise."

Zuko snorts, but doesn't argue. He knows now how dangerous his fire can be, and he doesn't want to accidentaly burn Aang trying to defend himself.

"Fine," he says, and swears he can feel Aang relax where he is standing. He was expecting Zuko to argue more. Instead, Zuko squares his shoulders and exhales slowly.

"I'm ready."

Aang had really expected Zuko to have gotten fed up by now. He knew his teaching methods were unorthodox- he couldn't help it, he never had a student to test them on. When Zuko had asked him for a fighting lesson after their daily firebending practice, Aang was surprised to find himself wanting to help. Only a few months ago, Zuko becoming a better fighter was the last thing they wanted. But Aang's 'fighting' lessons were more like 'dodging' lessons, and he knew of a few things he could teach Zuko. Whatever it took to keep his firebending teacher- his friend- safe.

It was still weird to think of Zuko as a member of his team. But here they were. Zuko was a good teacher, but sometimes it was still hard for Aang to wrap his head around the paths their lives had taken. Wasn't Zuko supposed to be firebending at him? Why did it feel so natural when they fought alongside each other?

Aang knew that Zuko's involvement was still hard for the others to swallow. That is why they decided to practice at night, away from the group.

Zuko waits for his attack, comfortable in his fighting stance. Aang pauses to study him, and feels a strange pang of affection in how explicitly Zuko trusts him in that moment. He has willingly blinded himself in front of a boy who used to be his sworn enemy. That Zuko has done this, without even really thinking about it or worrying about Aang's intentions, tells the Avatar all that he needs to know. He can trust Zuko, because Zuko trusts him.

Aang takes that trust, and sends a rock right at it. His earthbending is slower than it would ever be in a fight, because he wants to give Zuko time to hear and figure out what he is doing. Zuko dive-rolls out of the way with plenty of time to spare. Aang decides to step things up a bit.

Zuko has good reflexes, but Aang can see him struggling not to bend; he is too used to using fire, his offense, as his defense. Aang tosses out pointers along with his careful attacks. Zuko gets better the more he adjusts to his blindness. Aang feels a small surge of pride, until an overzealous rock catches Zuko right in the gut, hard enough to make him fly back a few feet and land squarely on his ass.

He feels bad for actually hitting Zuko, but can't help a small giggle from escaping him. Zuko is back on his feet in seconds, and Aang thinks he might be blushing a little. It's hard to tell in the dark.

"Keep going," Zuko demands, and Aang wouldn't have expected anything different from his stubborn pupil.

There was that trust again. Aang had just knocked the wind out of Zuko with a rock, and he merely stands and waits for the next part of training. He keeps the blindfold on and doesn't think for a second that Aang was actually trying to hurt him. How had Aang earned his trust so easily?

Aang feels flattered, and a warm current of happiness bubbles up in his chest. In the back of his mind he wonders if Zuko ever thinks these kind of things when he is training him, if his mind ever wanders to thoughts that are about more than firebending.

With Zuko blindfolded and unable to see what Aang is doing, Aang finds himself looking at Zuko more closely than he ever has before. Most of the time Aang is focused on what Zuko's fists or feet or fire are doing. Now he has a chance to really look at his face, and pick out details he'd never noticed before. His chest clenches and Aang tries to explain to himself why he's finding it hard to breathe.

It's because he's thinking of doing something, something Zuko would never see coming. Aang drifts closer to his pupil, his footsteps light as air and completely inaudible, staring all the while at the slight part of Zuko's lips. Before Zuko can sense his proximity, Aang leans in and presses the lightest of kisses there. He remains just long enough to feel the warmth of Zuko's lips, letting some of that warmth transfer to his own. Then he's darting away, far enough so Zuko can't see his blush.

Now Zuko really is pulling off his blindfold; he seeks Aang out with his eyes, looks surprised to see him so far away. Aang struggles to find words to explain what he just did-to himself or to Zuko, he isn't sure. But he finds it easier to seek out his new glider, always kept near, and take off into the night.


End file.
